


Carry On

by MeganRosenberg



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Daryl Dixon & Glenn Rhee Friendship, Drama, Friendship, Gen, Hurt Glenn Rhee, Zombies, walking dead - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-11 00:29:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11703006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeganRosenberg/pseuds/MeganRosenberg
Summary: Takes place in season 1 - Daryl, Glenn, Rick, and T-Dog return from Atlanta (and their search for Merle) to find the camp is being over-run with walkers. The group cannot fight them all off and end up fleeing the camp site to save their own lives. Glenn and Daryl are separated from the group and must try to find their companions while also looking out for themselves and each other.





	1. Chapter 1

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Chapter 1

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Glenn's lungs burned as he ran after Daryl and Rick back toward their camp. T-Dog trailed behind him. All four of them were on edge, and all four of them were utterly exhausted. Their trip back into the city to locate and retrieve Merle had not gone as planned. Not only were they unable to find Daryl's older brother, but when they had finally made it back to where they'd left their van, it was gone.

It could have been any random person who had stolen the van. After all, there were likely other survivors hiding out all over the place. In their group alone, there were children, an old man, a few women who screamed and cried like they didn't have any clue what to do when a walker approached them, even Glenn himself felt clueless about how to handle walkers half the time... If all these miscellaneous people could manage to survive this long, there had to be others... Anyone out there could have seen their seemingly abandoned van and decided to make use of it. They all knew that. Nevertheless, Glenn couldn't help but assume it had been Merle who hijacked their vehicle. The others seemed to think so as well.

But it didn't really matter who took the van. No matter who it was, the vehicle was still gone. The fact of the matter was that they now had to run back to camp on foot, knowing full well getting back before dark would be impossible. Traveling by any means was dangerous in this new world. Hell, just existing was dangerous. But having to travel on foot at night was one of the stupidest moves to be made in this post-apocalyptic world. Walkers could be around any corner, and since they were running practically blind, if a walker turned up, they probably wouldn't even see it until it was too late.

Gasping as he ran, Glenn tried to keep an eye on both of the men ahead of him as well as the one behind him, while also allowing his eyes to dart to the left or right every few seconds. They were nearly back to camp by now and they hadn't run into any walkers yet. He assumed that meant they were in the clear, but he didn't want to feel too confident, as he knew that in this world, just as soon as you started feeling too comfortable, something was bound to jump out of the darkness and rip your throat out. So he kept his guard up and did his best to be aware of his surroundings as he struggled to keep his legs working.

He felt like he'd been running forever. All he could hear was his own heavy breathing and the sound of his own beating heart pounding in his ears. He couldn't see Daryl or Rick's faces but he assumed they were just as exhausted as he was. They seemed to be doing alright though, as neither of them looked like they were having trouble staying ahead of the other two men.

Having T-Dog running behind him made Glenn nervous though. He hated it when one of his friends kept behind him instead of at his side or in front. He always felt the urge to look back and make sure the person was still there. Even before all this zombie business, he always hated not being able to see that all the people he was traveling with were still there. He always feared leaving someone behind. For this exact reason, he kept looking over his shoulder to make sure T-Dog was still there. Rick and Daryl didn't seem to be looking back much, so Glenn felt like it was his own responsibility to ensure both himself and T-Dog made it back to camp.

T-Dog looked just as tired as Glenn felt. Glenn wished he could propose that they all stop for a minute to catch their breath, but he knew they couldn't afford that. The quicker they moved, the less likely walkers would follow them back to camp, and the sooner they would be in a somewhat safe place. Stopping for breaks just wasn't reasonable.

"We're almost there," he called back to T-Dog. He didn't know if the man heard him. He could barely even hear himself over the sound of his own exhausted breathing. He knew the other man probably already knew they were almost back to camp... Glenn just wanted to say something positive after the hellish day they'd all just been through.

Glenn had expected that getting back to camp would be a relief. He expected to see Lori and Carl run up and hug Rick. Dale or Amy would probably greet him with a smile, hug, or both. Jacqui would probably happily greet T-Dog... Someone might even toss a smile Daryl's way, if they dared. The rest of the camp had probably assumed the four men had been killed in Atlanta since it was well after sundown. Everyone would be so surprised to see them among the living.

Their arrival back should have been joyous, but instead it was the complete opposite. When they ran into camp, everyone wasn't laughing and smiling around the camp fire. Instead, it was complete chaos. People were screaming and crying. Apparently a massive hoard of walkers had made it from the city, through the woods, and into camp. These reanimated corpses were in the process of attacking their campsite, taking down and feasting on anyone unlucky enough for them to catch. No one even noticed the four men had made it back, because they all had bigger fish to fry. The four of them immediately grabbed the first weapons they could find and joined in with the rest of the group to fight off the hoard of walkers.

"Glenn!" He heard Rick call his name with much urgency in his voice. When he turned toward the sound, the former cop tossed him a gun from the bag of guns they had retrieved earlier that day.

Glenn didn't have much experience actually killing the walkers. In all his scouting trips into the city, he'd usually just done his best to avoid them or outrun them, and his aim with a gun probably wasn't so great. Nevertheless, he aimed at the first walker he saw and fired. He hit the thing, but not where it mattered. The bullet seemed to have stuck in its shoulder. Glenn's assault on it had gained its attention so that it was now staggering toward him, its rotten mouth hanging open and its dead eyes staring blankly at him.

In the darkness and with its advanced degree of decay, he couldn't even tell if the thing had once been a man or a woman. The fact that these things were once people sickened him. Glenn knew most of his family and friends were just like this grotesque monster. His current friends here in camp would probably become walkers one day. He himself would probably eventually become one. It was inevitable - not a matter of if, but a matter of when...

He aimed again, holding his breath in an attempt to keep his arms steady. When he felt confident that his aim was spot on, he fired the gun a second time. This time, he actually hit it in its head. As it staggered back and fell to the ground, he felt shocked that he'd actually succeeded. But he didn't have the luxury of time to sit around being proud of himself. There were countless more where that one had come from.

So he turned toward the next silhouette, squinting in the darkness to make sure it was actually a walker and not one of his friends. It was indeed a geek, and it was stumbling toward Carol, who was hugging Sophia while backing herself up between a tent and a tree. Both the woman and the girl were screaming and crying. Glenn rushed up and pointed his gun at the back of the walker's head. If he could get close enough, he wouldn't have to take the risk of missing the shot like he had on the first zombie. Killing it in one shot would definitely be best, as it was quicker, and he only had a certain number of bullets. He didn't know how many bullets the gun held or if it was fully loaded when Rick had tossed it to him. He had no clips with which to reload, so each bullet was precious.

With the gun almost touching the geek's exposed skull, Glenn pulled the trigger, watched the body fall to the ground, and then rushed up to Carol and Sophia, "you guys okay?" he breathed out. He was still exhausted from running back to camp.

Carol nodded, but she still looked terrified. Sophia just hid her face against her mother's body and refused to see the ruined world around her.

"You should get into the RV or something," Glenn suggested, trying to speak loudly enough to be heard over the screaming and gunshots. Carol clearly wasn't cut out for killing walkers, and Sophia was just a child. They needed to get themselves someplace safe and out of the way so that they wouldn't fall victim to walking corpses or friendly fire.

He grabbed Carol's hand and started leading her toward the RV, but what he saw next stopped him in his tracks. Lying in front of the RV was Amy, and kneeling over her was Andrea. Amy's neck and shirt were covered in a massive quantity of blood, most definitely her own. A fallen geek lay nearby, and Andrea was sobbing uncontrollably as she frantically pressed her hands up against the deep, bleeding wound on her little sister's neck in some attempt to stop the bleeding and save her life. Amy had been bitten, and if she wasn't dead already, she certainly would be soon.

Glenn wasn't made to deal with stuff like this. What was he supposed to do? If there was a picture that could be used to describe complete fucking chaotic disaster, this would be it. Bodies littered the campsite. Glenn hoped nearly all of them were walkers and that they hadn't lost too many of their own group, but it was impossible to take count of who was left. Even those who were still shooting the zombies could have been bitten, which would mean they were just as good as dead themselves.

He heard the engine of one of the group's cars starting up. Glenn turned toward the sound in time to see the car backing up, rolling over a walker and then speeding off. Someone had decided to leave instead of staying and fighting this out. He couldn't say he blamed them.

Walkers were staggering out of the woods at an alarming rate. The survivors weren't killing them as fast as they were appearing. He aimed at a group of about ten walkers and started firing. He knew he probably wasn't hitting all of them in their heads, but there were so many and he was beginning to panic enough that he couldn't focus on what was the smartest thing to do in this situation. They were all staggering toward him and he knew he couldn't possibly take the time to get a certain head shot on each one.

When he turned around he saw that Carol and Sophia were gone. They must have fled like he'd advised. He hoped they'd made it someplace safe.

"Get in the RV!" He heard Dale scream. "Everyone into the RV! Andrea! Leave her! You can't save her! She's gone, Andrea! Get in the RV!"

"Shane!" He heard Lori's voice, "Rick! You can't kill them all! Just get in the car right now! We're not leaving you again!"

So that was it. Everyone was giving up. The camp had been compromised, and there was no gaining it back. The walkers continued stumbling toward him, and he continued to shoot them until his gun was out of bullets. Even after there were no bullets, he kept pulling the trigger, hoping there was by some miracle some extra secret bullet in the gun just for a situation like this. He wasn't sure how many shots he'd fired, but he only managed to take out one of the geeks before the gun was empty. He tossed the the weapon as hard as he could at the swarm of undead and proceeded to run away from them, away from the RV where Dale was frantically trying to convince Andrea to leave her dead or dying little sister behind.

By now almost everyone had filed into a vehicle and many of the vehicles had already sped off. Glenn could see Rick was still out in the open, firing his gun at zombies and helping other people find an empty place in one of the vehicles. Shane was in the driver's seat of a car, with Lori and Carl in the back. Lori was yelling out the window, demanding that Rick get in, while Shane was hanging out the window, shooting the walkers while he waited on his friend to take his place in the passenger side of the car.

There were still many people unaccounted for. Glenn didn't know how many of them were dead and how many were in the cars that had already sped off. It was so hectic and would be impossible for any sort of role call. Besides himself and Rick, he didn't see any more living people walking about the camp.

Glenn's heart was pounding. The car Shane was driving seemed to be the only vehicle left, but it was all the way across the campsite, between himself and a mass of mindless walking corpses. He didn't have a weapon anymore, and this wasn't like the city where there were shops and alleys he could duck into or fire escapes he could climb... Getting passed the zombies wasn't going to be easy.

The walkers were forcing him to back away from Shane's car even further than he already was. The RV that had been in the other direction was gone now, and there were geeks in that direction too. This was going to be where he died. He was finally going to become one of those disgusting monsters he feared... Unless they consumed his corpse enough to make that impossible. If he turned into one of them and his legs had been eaten off, would be feel it? Would be be in pain until someone was kind enough to shoot him and put him out of his misery? Would anyone even bother when he was just a mangled torso and head - absolutely no threat at all... A waste of bullets...

Seemingly out of nowhere he heard the revving of another engine, but this one wasn't a car or the RV. It was much too loud. He turned toward the noise to see it was a motorcycle, and it was being driven by none other than Daryl Dixon. For a moment his heart sunk. Daryl on a motorcycle was almost the same thing as nothing at all. That man wasn't going to help him. If he knew Glenn was still out among the chaos in the camp, he'd probably pretend he didn't know.

Glenn searched around himself for a clear path through the corpses and to the only car left, which Rick was climbing into as he gave one last glance around to make sure he wasn't leaving anyone behind. In the darkness, he must not have seen Glenn, because he got into the car and slammed the door.

"Rick!" Glenn screamed. "Wait!" He was frantic by now. That was his last chance of getting out of here alive.

Now that Daryl's motorcycle's engine was blaring, Rick couldn't even hear Glenn call out his name. Shane was pulling the car out of the campsite in no time, leaving Glenn to be yet another casualty in this cruel world.

The sound of the motorcycle drew nearer, so Glenn turned toward it. Daryl would probably deny him passage on his brother's motorcycle, but he could at least make sure the man saw he was there. It would probably not do him any good, but he could at least try...

"Daryl!" Glenn called out, waving his arms frantically as he made his way over toward the sound of the engine.

Daryl's eyes met his. The man looked just as angry as always. It was impossible for Glenn to tell what he was thinking. Daryl may have been waiting to watch Glenn get killed. Maybe he hated him that much. Or maybe he would be perfectly willing to let Glenn hitch a ride. Either way, the younger man had to ask.

"Please don't leave me here!" Glenn pleaded, still completely out of breath as he struggled to make his way over to the older man while also avoiding all the hungry hands reaching out toward him.

"Come on then!" Daryl screamed back. "Hurry it up!"

Glenn breathed out a sigh of relief as he heard Daryl's words. He began rushing toward the motorcycle, but paused when a walker got much too close for comfort, grabbing his arm and snapping its teeth at him.

Glenn struggled to push the thing off of him. He had no weapon at all. Not even something blunt to hit it with. He was completely defenseless. He had his own hands of course, but they were basically useless. He couldn't beat the walker off him with just his hands... Not easily anyway.

Suddenly, an arrow whizzed through the air and connected with the skull of the decaying corpse trying to make a meal out of him.

"Fetch that arrow and get on the back," Daryl yelled at him. "Hurry up! We don't got all night!"

With trembling hands, Glenn grabbed the arrow. He put his shoe on the walker's head and squeezed his eyes shut as he pulled the arrow up and out of its skull. No matter how many of these things he came in contact with, he knew he'd never get used to the idea of dealing with them being a normal every-day annoyance. Pulling an arrow out of someone's head was traumatizing, even if that person was a reanimated corpse... It had still been a person once... He gripped the arrow tightly in his hand and continued making his way over to Daryl as quickly as his tired legs would carry him.

When he finally made it to the man and his bike, Glenn handed him the arrow and then hesitated briefly. Daryl wasn't exactly the kind of person who welcomed the close proximity of other humans. Glenn knew the man probably didn't really want him there, but he also knew he couldn't bother caring. He had to either take the awkward seat Daryl had offered or stay here and die.

He jumped on the back of the motorcycle behind Daryl and then debated silently whether or not grabbing onto the man's waist would result in his death. He was lucky enough that Daryl had allowed him onto the bike in the first place. He didn't want to undo that luck by making the man angry now. But this decision was quickly made for him when he reached out instinctively and grabbed onto the man's flannel shirt as Daryl sped the motorcycle up quickly enough to make the younger man almost fall off the back of it.

Daryl drove the bike as though he had been practicing driving through swarms of zombies all his life. He weaved around the walking corpses, narrowly missing the groping hands and they were out on the road in no time, quickly making their way away from the city.

Glenn gripped the older man's shirt tightly, holding on for dear life. Daryl was driving faster than Glenn would have preferred. Sure, there were no other drivers on the road, but there could be abandoned cars sitting just about anywhere, and a walker could stumble onto the road at any moment. Driving fast was more dangerous now than ever. Before all this, people wouldn't just pace around across highways, and no one abandoned their cars in the middle of the road. Maybe they didn't have to worry about the stupidity of other drivers, but the hazards on the road now were worse than ever in Glenn's eyes.

Even though Daryl's driving scared him, he couldn't help but feel tremendous relief that he was here right now instead of still back at camp fighting off zombies until his last breath. He knew there were many people in their group who would have never left him behind on purpose. If Rick or Dale had known he hadn't made it into someone else's vehicle, they would have been sure to at least try to avoid leaving him behind. In fact, they probably wouldn't have left him there even if he'd been bitten. Glenn wondered if Andrea had ended up taking Amy with them in the RV. Was she already dead? The bite wound on her neck looked pretty bad. He was pretty sure Amy wouldn't have left him behind either, but she was no longer in the position to be making such choices. Andrea probably wouldn't have left him behind either, but having just witnessed her sister being viciously attacked by a decaying human monster, she probably wasn't even thinking about anyone else.

With all those options he had of people who might be looking out for him, Glenn never would have dreamed it would be Daryl who actually made sure he didn't get killed. Anyone else seeing him and leaving him behind anyway would have been devastating to him emotionally. If Daryl had left him there on purpose, he wouldn't have even been surprised.

"We should stay on the main road," Glenn offered. "The others probably stopped up ahead at some point so we can all meet back up with each other. I hope no one headed toward the city," He practically had to yell and still wasn't sure if Daryl heard him. The engine mixed with the wind drowned out his voice, and since he was still out of breath, his voice was weaker and softer than he'd have liked.

Daryl either didn't hear him or chose to ignore him.

Even with the roaring engine and swishing sound of the wind, Glenn felt the silence between himself and the driver of the motorcycle to be uncomfortable, "Do you have any idea of who all made it out?" Glenn asked.

"Don't know." Daryl shrugged. Glenn barely heard him. "Do you?" He looked over his shoulder slightly and then focused back on the road.

"I'm pretty sure Rick, Shane, Lori, and Carl made it," Glenn practically yelled to be heard. "Carol and Sophia were okay the last I saw them... Everything was happening so fast... I lost track of them. I hope they made it to the RV. Dale was yelling for people to get in. I think Andrea made it, but I'm not sure..." Glenn frowned and felt tears welling up in his eyes. After all the death he'd witnessed in these passed months, he still couldn't get used to his friends being violently killed. "Amy didn't make it..." he managed in a small voice. He didn't say anything more, because he wanted to instead focus on keeping himself from crying. Now was not the time to get emotional.

At first he thought Daryl hadn't heard what he said last, because for a moment the older man remained silent. But after a few seconds, his shoulders slumped. "Damn," he muttered.

Glenn wished he could see Daryl's face. It was so hard to tell what the man was thinking. Was that 'damn' a sarcastic remark? Or was he actually disappointed that Amy was dead? Glenn wondered if Daryl had the capacity to care about anyone besides himself and Merle. Surely even if he didn't really like her, he'd be saddened to hear of her death. Even if he didn't know her at all, she was still a person... And she had been a great person.

In fact, Glenn felt closer to her than he had to almost anyone else in the group. She was close to him in age, and she was happy, upbeat, funny, cute... Any time things were getting to be too stressful, they could always count on her to brighten their moods. How were they going to get on without her? Andrea wouldn't ever be the same. Dale wouldn't ever be the same... Each time it seemed like living in this new world might just be manageable, something else happened to rip away all sense of security they'd built up. Maybe making it in the world in its current state just wasn't possible.

With his mind focused on Amy, Glenn didn't even notice what was going on in the road ahead of him until it was already too late. His attention was brought back to reality when he felt Daryl swerving sharply to the left. Just ahead of them were three walkers standing in the road. Daryl's mind must have been wandering too, as he swerved at the last minute. He must not have noticed the geeks either until they were right upon them.

"Watch out!" Glenn screamed. He knew his words were redundant, as Daryl was already aware of the obstruction and was already working to avoid it. The younger man's verbal warning slipped out of his mouth without him even thinking.

Despite the fact that everything was happening so fast, for a moment it felt like he was moving in slow motion. He could feel Daryl losing control over the motorcycle. Glenn held onto the older man's shirt but could feel himself losing his grip. When he wasn't able to hold on any longer, he felt himself thrown off the vehicle and into the grassy ditch next to the highway.

As he landed, he cried out in pain. In an attempt to catch himself and avoid as much injury as possible, he had put out his hands, but in doing so he must have twisted his wrist, or else landed on it wrong, because it was immediately throbbing in pain. He must have also somehow landed on his ankle and shoulder, because those both throbbed as well.

For a moment he just lay in the ditch, afraid to move for so many reasons. He knew there were at least three walkers in the nearby area, and he knew he was still unarmed. He also knew that his wrist was probably broken and his shoulder felt like it had been dislocated. He had landed quite hard and his body was probably in shock. He could very possibly be even more injured than he knew. And then of course he had no idea how Daryl had fared. For all he knew, the other man could have been injured even worse than Glenn. Maybe he was pinned under the motorcycle or something... Glenn had to force himself up off the ground and make sure his companion was alright. If the man was somehow trapped, it would be up to Glenn to make sure he didn't fall victim to the ravenous appetites of the nearby walkers...

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	2. Chapter 2

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Chapter 2

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"Daryl?" Glenn hissed in a somewhat panicked whisper as he pulled himself up out of the ditch. As he forced himself to stand, he did his best to avoid using his right arm, which seemed to have been the poor limb to have broken his fall for the most part. Even when he held still, his right shoulder and wrist hurt, so using it to pull himself to his feet would have surely been enough to reduce him to tears.

Next he began his short trek back to the pavement in order to search for his companion. Glenn's right ankle hurt when he walked on it, but not bad enough to suggest it was broken. He counted himself lucky that he was even able to walk considering how fast Daryl had been driving. The wreck could have easily damaged him much worse, or even killed him. He certainly hoped Daryl had been just as lucky...

In the darkness, he could see the motorcycle lying in the road, but saw no sign of it's driver. It was a pretty dark night, but the motorcycle's headlight shone ahead. It was in fact the only light to be seen, but illuminated only a single beam of space, and Daryl did not happen to be in that line of light.

Glenn limped over closer to the bike. Maybe Daryl had been thrown off it as well. He could be lying on the road nearby, or in one of the ditches. "Daryl?" Glenn's voice was becoming panicked as he looked around himself. What would he do if Daryl was seriously injured or dead? Glenn wasn't big enough to carry the man if he needed to, and certainly wouldn't be capable of doing so while also fighting off walkers they'd surely encounter. He wished it wasn't so dark. As much as he tried to survey the area, he could still see practically nothing. He had lost sight of the three walkers that had caused Daryl to lose control of the motorcycle too. "Daryl! Where are you!?" Glenn tried to whisper and yell at the same time. He wanted Daryl to be able to hear him, but he didn't want to alert the walkers to his presence. "Please don't be dead..." Glenn muttered with a shaky voice.

Everything was eerily silent. He still neither saw nor heard any sign of the other man, that is, until his ears picked up the sound of an arrow whizzing through the air from somewhere nearby, followed by the thudding sound of a body hitting the asphalt.

"Daryl!" Glenn squinted his eyes in the darkness, but still couldn't see him. He could hear footsteps nearby, some in front of him and some behind him. Only one of those could be his companion. The other footsteps must have been that of a walker. "Daryl..." Glenn whispered. His breathing was beginning to become frantic, and now he noticed his ribs hurt quite a bit each time air entered and exited his lungs. As much as he tried to will himself to calm down, it just wasn't happening.

Since Daryl seemed unwilling to give him any hint as to his location, Glenn decided to just guess. He balled his hands into fists, ready to punch a walker in the face if he needed to and took a few hesitant steps forward.

Up ahead he could just barely make out the silhouette of a figure, but the night was much too dark for him to tell if the figure was living or undead. It was just a non-descriptive shadow. He hoped it was Daryl. "Is that you?" he whispered as he walked nearer. The figure seemed to turn toward him, but made no effort to answer his question. "Daryl!?" Glenn hissed. "Is that you?" His quick breaths were still panicked as he took another tentative step forward. "Answer me, or I'm going to punch you as hard as I can when I get up there," he threatened, feeling his fingernails digging into his own palms.

The person ahead of him still said nothing. Glenn stopped walking toward it. Surely Daryl would have said something if it was him... right? Why wouldn't he? Unless he was somehow hurt so that he couldn't speak... "God damn it, Daryl!" Glenn's voice showed his stress level was rapidly increasing. Everything he said sounded shaky and uncertain.

When he felt something reach out and grab his arm from behind, Glenn screamed much louder than he would have if he had any control over his own reactions. He had already been on edge, so the rough fingers suddenly wrapping themselves around his upper arm did nothing to ease his fear. He tried to turn around and punch whatever had grabbed him, but it held onto him tight and pulled him right up against its body. It even crushed its other hand over his mouth, as if to keep him from screaming again.

In that instant Glenn knew it hadn't been a walker that had grabbed him. A walker wouldn't try to silence him. It wouldn't have cared if he screamed. And If it was a walker, it wouldn't have hesitated to start chewing on Glenn's throat right now, or clawing out his vital organs. But instead of feeling his body being ripped into pieces, he felt warm breath against his ear. "Shhhhhh," a voice whispered. "I took out one of 'em." It was Daryl's voice of course. "There's at least two left. Keep quiet. You don't know how many of 'em are out in the woods. The more you scream, the more of 'em you'll attract." He paused. "Got it?" he asked.

Glenn nodded. "Um hm," his muffled answer attempted to make itself around Daryl's hand. Even though he was incredibly relieved to be in Daryl's hands instead of in a zombie's, his heart was still beating at a rate that made him feel like he was having some sort of panic attack.

"Stay close," Daryl whispered as he let go of Glenn and stepped out in front of him. Daryl started walking ahead, his crossbow aimed and ready to shoot anything that moved.

"There's one right ahead, I think," Glenn offered as he followed close behind the armed man. "I saw it before you grabbed me, but only just barely. It's too dark. I thought it was you."

"Shhhh," Daryl repeated his earlier warning, but walked in the direction Glenn had indicated. "Yup," he muttered, steadying the crossbow and firing it ahead, seemingly at nothing. Glenn winced as he heard the geek's body thud against the ground. He didn't know how the man managed to have perfect aim even in almost complete darkness. Maybe Daryl had developed some sort of advanced night vision from having practically lived in the woods all during his childhood. At least, Glenn assumed he had probably been raised in such an environment. How else would he have become an expert at hunting and tracking and all that?

Glenn followed the other man as he went over to the fallen corpse to retrieve his arrow.

"Listen!" Glenn demanded in a hushed tone. Both he and Daryl stood in silence for a second. "I think I hear one over there." Glenn gestured to their left. "I can hear it breathing... or panting... or whatever it is they do..."

"It's close," Daryl whispered, moving slowly in the direction of the noise. "We need to get some god damned flashlights to carry around with us. There's a reason I don't go out hunting in the middle of the damn night. You don't got one in that backpack of yours, do ya?" he wondered, glancing over his shoulder at Glenn briefly before turning his attention back on the darkness ahead of them.

Glenn froze. He had forgotten all about his back pack. He in fact was still wearing it, and he indeed kept a flashlight in it. He felt so stupid for not remembering it sooner. Swinging the pack out from behind himself, he quickly unzipped it and started digging through it. His right wrist and shoulder hurt horribly whenever he moved his arm or hand, so he tried to avoid doing so, but he knew finding anything in the bag would be twice as difficult and would take twice as much time if he only used one hand. So he held his breath and used both hands, ignoring the shooting pain radiating up his arm and through his shoulder. "I've got one in here somewhere, I think..." he breathed out, wincing when he suddenly remembered his aching ribs. The entire right side of his body hurt. It seemed moving, and even breathing was going to cause him pain. He wondered if Daryl was hurt too. The man certainly didn't seem to be slowed down by any unseen injuries he might have.

Glenn's arms were shaking as he sifted through the bag, as he could almost feel Daryl's eyes boring into him. He didn't even want to see the look on the other man's face. He was probably beyond frustrated with the younger man.

"Just a second," Glenn rasped. To his great relief, he finally felt the plastic of the flashlight under some clothing in the bag. He wrapped his fingers around it and pulled it up out of the back pack. "Got it," he breathed out, relieved that he didn't have to spend anymore time fumbling around with the bag like an idiot.

He held the light in his uninjured hand, flipped the switch, and shined the light ahead. The beam landed on the very walker they sought. Its pale, dead eyes shone in the light and its mouth hung open. Shiny red blood shone around its mouth. Glenn wondered if it was the walker's own blood or the blood of some unknown victim it had devoured. Hopefully it wasn't the blood from anyone in their group. Glenn could see that part of its face was gone. The skin around it's jaw was missing so that all of its teeth could have been seen even with its mouth closed. It looked like it was missing an ear too. Glenn wondered what this person had gone through before they had died. Were they eaten alive? Or did their body fall apart due to decay after their death?

Glenn jumped as Daryl released an arrow which immediately connected with the geek's skull. It's rotten body jerked back and then fell to the ground. The younger man shined the flashlight at the body so Daryl could see what he was doing as he stepped forward to retrieve his arrow. Replacing arrows was even more difficult than replacing bullets, and Daryl didn't have boxes and boxes of them. He probably just had four or five arrows total, so Daryl deemed it absolutely necessary to retrieve every single one. The only way he'd leave one behind was if going after it would mean his certain death... And Glenn had a feeling he might attempt to go after it even then.

After Daryl retrieved his arrow, Glenn kept his light trained on the fallen walker. He often found himself considering that these monsters all used to be normal people, but he was thinking about it even more tonight than ever. That walker was someone's son. He might have been someone's father, or brother, or best friend. Someone, somewhere cared about that monster a few months ago when he was a regular guy. He once had a life, a family, a job, worries, goals... And now all of that was gone. He was reduced to becoming a grotesque, bloodthirsty monster. He had ceased to be a unique individual person who people may have loved or looked up to and had instead become a something to fear.

It was a fate they would all fall into eventually. If Dale had ended up convincing Andrea to leave Amy there back at the campsite, and no one had destroyed her brain, she could be one of these creatures by now. Had Andrea shot her though? Maybe she'd thought about this already and shot her own sister just so she wouldn't turn into one of the walkers. Would he ever even know? It's not like he could bring it up in casual conversation... And maybe Andrea wasn't even alive anymore. Glenn didn't know what had become of all the other members of their group.

"Hey, you listenin' ta me, Chinaman?" Daryl waved his hand in front of Glenn's face.

"What?" Glenn blinked his eyes a few times and raised his eyebrows. He squinted in the darkness as he tried to see the face behind the voice. When he had no luck, he shined the light up at Daryl so he could see his face.

"Don't shine that damn light in my face," Daryl ordered, swatting Glenn's hand roughly so that he dropped the light onto the asphalt with a sound that could almost be described as a crack. Daryl reached down and quickly snatched up the light before Glenn could and shined it in the younger man's eyes. "I said are you alright?" he said in a slow tone as if he was talking to an idiot who couldn't otherwise understand him.

Glenn squinted. He brought his right hand up to shield his eyes from the light, wincing as the movement reminded him of the intense pain in his shoulder and wrist, "I'm fine," he hissed, but he actually felt quite nauseated. He was exhausted from running, stressed from having almost been killed, in pain from having been thrown off the motorcycle... And the bright light shining in his eyes wasn't helping one bit.

Daryl sighed loudly. "I didn't ask you so you could play tough and fuckin' lie to me. If you're hurt you gotta say so. Can't fix it if you deny anything's wrong."

Glenn hesitated. "Can you at least stop shining the light in my eyes?" he requested.

"Not much fun is it?" Daryl scoffed as he shoved the flashlight back at Glenn, pressing it against his chest so that it was shining down at their feet.

Without thinking, Glenn brought his right hand up, as it was his dominant hand. He grabbed the flashlight and proceeded to immediately wince and drop it. It landed on the pavement again, with another cracking sound. It even flickered off for a moment. "I'm sorry!" Glenn gasped. The last thing they needed was to ruin their light source. He bent down and grabbed the light back up, holding it with a tight grip in his left hand.

"Your hand broken 'er somethin?" Daryl wondered, reaching out and grabbing Glenn's right wrist.

Glenn gasped in pain and flinched back, but Daryl held onto him too tightly for him to pull himself away from the other man. "I think my wrist's broken," Glenn hissed. "If you must know... And my shoulder might be dislocated. But you're not a doctor, so there's nothing you can do."

"Hey-" Daryl glared at him. "Don't assume I'm an idiot just 'cause I aint a city boy like you. Shine that light up here so I can see what I'm doin."

Glenn felt his eyes widen and tried again to pull his arm out of Daryl's grip. "Let me go, Daryl," he requested in a shaking voice. The older man still held onto his wrist too tightly for Glenn to easily pull out of his grasp. If Glenn wanted to get his arm free, it was going involve a lot of painful struggling. "Don't worry about it, Daryl," he insisted. "I'll just... uh... let someone look at it when we meet back up with the others..."

"Oh yeah?" Daryl asked, gripping the younger man's arm with both his hands now. "Who?"

Glenn shook his head. "I don't know..." His breathing was becoming quite rapid again. Glenn wasn't comfortable even letting trained doctors look him over when he was injured. He certainly didn't want this guy who had absolutely no medical training trying to treat him. Daryl was probably more experienced in breaking bones than in mending them.

"Hold still," Daryl instructed. "I'm gonna pop your shoulder back into place."

"No..." Glenn shook his head again. "Don't..." he tried to pull himself free, but Daryl was still gripping the limb too tightly. "Daryl, please... Just leave it alone. I'll deal with it later... It's not so bad... I can just wait. Surely Rick or Shane know something about it. Cops have some medical knowledge, right? They deal with emergencies all the time..." He could hear in his voice a hint of fear.

Daryl scoffed. "I wouldn't count on it. Cops don't know shit. Come on, Chinaman. It's no big deal. I've done this lots of times. You have any idea how many times Merle and I got into fights and fell out of trees and shit when we were kids? I've known how to fix a dislocated shoulder since I was fuckin' nine years old. I got this," Daryl assured him. "Just hold still. It'll be over in no time. The longer you wait, the stiffer yer arm's gonna get, and the more it'll hurt when you finally fix it."

Glenn still wanted to protest, but it didn't look like anything he said was going to make a difference. Daryl thought he knew what he was doing, and he was going to do it whether Glenn okay-ed it or not. So he squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath, hoping the older man wouldn't make his injury worse than it already was.

Daryl held onto Glenn tightly and in one swift motion pushed his arm back, realigning the socket in his shoulder. Glenn actually could swear he heard a popping sound.

"Done." Daryl's voice sounded almost proud.

Glenn breathed out a shaky breath as he opened his eyes. He moved his arm slowly, cautiously. Sure enough, Daryl seemed to have fixed it. It still didn't feel great, but was definitely better off than it had been before. He looked over at Daryl. "Thank you..." he breathed.

Daryl just shrugged. "Can't do nothin' about yer wrist though," he reminded the younger man. "Like you said, I aint no doctor. If I tried to fix that, I'd probably end up breaking it worse."

Glenn instinctively drew his wrist closer to himself, hoping Daryl wouldn't make any attempt to fix it when he was clearly unsure of his capability in to do so.

As Daryl began making his way back over toward the motorcycle lying on its side in the road, Glenn followed behind him.

The older man must have made an assessment to the damage caused to the vehicle before Glenn could even see it, because Daryl promptly kicked the bike and swore under his breath. "God fucking damn it!"

Glenn shined his flashlight at the wrecked motorcycle and tried to see whatever it was Daryl had seen. There was a pool of liquid under it. Probably gasoline. The fuel tank must have been ruptured somehow. "Can you fix it?" Glenn wondered, hoping the other man wouldn't find the question to be too stupid to warrant an answer.

Daryl pulled the bike up and looked at it. "Nah. It's fucked." He pushed it back down, causing a loud crashing sound as the bike's metal frame ground against the rough asphalt of the road.

Glenn winced at the sound, hoping it hadn't alerted any walkers to their location.

"Guess we'll have to walk then," Daryl decided.

Before they abandoned the bike, the older man sifted through the compartments, taking out a large zip-lock bag filled with drugs, along with a few other things. Glenn wondered if those drugs were illegal. Not like it mattered now.

"What if the others kept going?" Glenn worried as he and Daryl started walking away from the bike and hopefully in the direction of the rest of their group. "I mean, for miles and miles? What if they stopped so far ahead that we can't get there on foot in one night? Where are we gonna go?"

Daryl shrugged. "We don't need them," he insisted. "If we don't find 'em, we'll find some sort of car or truck or whatever the hell we can. We can make it without 'em. Don't know 'bout you, but I never needed 'em in the first place."

Glenn frowned. "We're still going to look for them though, right?" He stared at Daryl, keeping his flashlight pointed at the ground, even though he really could have used it to help him read Daryl's cryptic facial expression. "Maybe you don't need to be part of a group, but I do. I'm better at scouting alone... But I don't want to be completely alone for the rest of my life..."

"Am I nobody?" Daryl scowled down at him. "What definition of 'alone,' does you and me fit? We're two people, ain't we? But yeah... We'll look for 'em. They'll prolly come back for us. If they were willing to go back for my brother, they'll sure as hell come back for you."

Glenn frowned. "That's not what I meant..." He hadn't meant to imply traveling with Daryl would be just as dangerous and unpleasant as traveling alone. "I'm glad I'm not actually all alone," he assured the other man as they started walking away from the site of their collision with the walkers and toward where the rest of their group had hopefully gone. "And I'm really grateful you didn't leave me back at camp. I just mean... Well, I liked the dynamic of having a whole group... Like a family. Everyone had jobs and we all looked out for each other."

"Two people can be a family too," Daryl muttered. "Merle and I never fit in with your group. We'd have done just fine without all you guys. Probably should have left when we still could. I'm sure you noticed, but Merle don't play well with others."

Glenn laughed. He hoped his reaction wouldn't offend Daryl, but he couldn't help it. There was certainly truth in what Daryl had just said. "Yeah... I noticed."

He looked over at Daryl who was also grinning slightly. "He's my brother, and I love him, but he sure can be a pain in the ass."

Glenn kept silent. Agreeing might not be his wisest move. He knew full well that insulting your own family was a lot more okay than someone else insulting them. So he wasn't going to say anything at all to that.

"I don't like other people any more than he does, but god damn... Sometimes you just gotta deal with people..." Daryl frowned. "But I think he kind of likes messing with people. He don't like 'em, but instead of avoiding 'em all together like I'd prefer to, he goes up to 'em and harasses 'em."

Glenn nodded. He had noticed that about the Dixon brothers. They both seemed to dislike living with the rest of the group. Daryl typically just stayed away from everyone, while Merle seemed to enjoy getting into arguments with them.

Daryl slung his cross bow over his right shoulder as he continued walking down the road. "You think we could do without the light?" he wondered, "It'd be a shame if we used up all the battery now and ended up needing light later."

Glenn turned the light off. Sure enough, they could still see a bit. The dim light of the moon and stars wasn't much, and if they heard any sound in the nearby woods, he was going to turn the light back on in a millisecond, but for now, he supposed they could get by without it.

Each time he stepped on his right ankle an uncomfortable feeling of pain radiated up his leg. He knew it wasn't broken. It didn't hurt enough for that, but it certainly was making walking more than a little unpleasant. And to make matters worse, Daryl's pace was picking up, which forced Glenn to walk faster, which forced him to breathe more heavily, which caused his most-likely-bruised ribs to throb with a dull pain as well.

"I'm sorry about your brother." Glenn broke the silence as he almost jogged to keep up with the older man. "I mean... I didn't really talk to him much... In fact he kind of scared me... But I still wish we hadn't had to leave him behind... If I could go back, I'd have made sure we handled the situation differently."

Daryl glared over at him. "Yer actin' like he's dead."

Glenn raised his hands defensively. "No... I just mean it must suck to not know where he is... To not know if he's okay or not."

"You know where all yer relatives are?" Daryl raised his eyebrow as he glanced over at the younger man. "They even have this whole zombie business goin' down in China?"

Glenn sighed heavily, partially because his quick pace and exhaustion were making breathing quite a chore, and partially because of his annoyance with the other man. "I'm not Chinese, Daryl. How many times do I have to tell you that?

"Korea then." Daryl's tone showed he didn't see any difference between the two places and thought Glenn was being petty for even bringing it up. But the fact that Daryl was the one who corrected himself assured Glenn that Daryl did in fact remember where the younger man was from. He was getting it wrong on purpose, just because he knew Glenn didn't like it.

"I imagine if the rest of the world wasn't going through the same disaster as we are, they'd have sent someone in to help." Glenn looked over at the older man. "But my family isn't in Korea either. They're in Michigan..." He frowned and looked away. "And I guess they're probably dead."

He felt Daryl clap him on the shoulder. "So you got no reason ta be feelin' sorry for my brother. He may be minus a hand, but at least we got good reason to believe he's alive."

Glenn winced loud enough to cause Daryl to move his hand back quickly.

"Sorry. Forgot about that." Daryl gestured toward the younger man's shoulder. "And sorry yer family's probably dead... but you never know... Michigan's a long way away... Maybe stuff ain't as bad there."

Glenn shook his head. "You see how many people are left around here? Atlanta is a huge city, and out of all the people I've seen lately, most of them aren't alive... not by my definition of the word. The chances of any of my family, let alone all of them, being alive are pretty much none."

"Just tryin' to look on the positive side." Daryl shrugged, but immediately his focus shifted. "Shhh-" He reached his hand out and stopped Glenn in his tracks. "You hear that?" He stood still and silent, waiting for Glenn to listen and hear the same sound he'd heard.

It sounded like something walking out in the woods. Glenn could hear leaves rustling and twigs snapping nearby, not close enough to say whatever it was was right on them, but not far enough away to keep him from worrying. "Maybe it's just a deer..." Glenn suggested without much confidence in the likeliness of this possibility.

Daryl shook his head. "Come on." He grabbed Glenn's arm and pulled him forward for a second, but proceeded to release his grip and end up a few paces ahead as he walked rather briskly. "I'm not sure how many are out there, but I'd rather just get out of here instead of waitin' to find out. They probably heard all that commotion earlier, so the slower we walk, the more of 'em are gonna swarm up together. We should get out of here, fast."

The older man was starting to jog, so Glenn was forced to begin jogging as well, no matter how much his body protested. He knew Daryl was right; they needed to get out of there while they still could, before their spot on the highway became a mini-repeat of the disaster that just went down at their camp site. He just wished he wasn't already so exhausted.

He still hadn't fully recovered from his earlier run back to camp. His legs had felt like jello this whole time. That on top of his hurt ankle and ribs was making this method of travel extremely uncomfortable. He could hear his own breathing sounded more like wheezing. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep up with the older man's pace. Daryl was already getting too far ahead for Glenn's comfort. The older man was the only one with a weapon, so Glenn didn't want to get left too far behind...

xxxxxx


	3. Chapter 3

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Chapter 3

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Daryl jogged at a steady pace down the deserted highway. Surely the rest of the members of their group hadn't driven too far... They were probably parked up ahead somewhere, and were probably organizing a search party at this very moment. Rick wouldn't leave anyone behind... For some reason the guy seemed to think it was his job to take care of everyone. Maybe it was because before all this zombie stuff, it kind of was his job to do so...

He was pretty sure someone would come back for them eventually, and even if no one did, he and Glenn would eventually come across an abandoned car or something... They were on a fucking highway in the middle of the zombie apocalypse... Someone had to have abandoned a car nearby... He hoped their luck would turn around soon, because being out here in the open and in the dark was so dangerous, especially considering he had to look out not only for himself, but for the little Asian kid too. And said kid happened to be without a weapon, and with a hurt wrist. Daryl felt confident he could keep himself alive, but adding an extra unarmed, basically defenseless person into the mix greatly increased his chance of failure.

He could hear the sounds of movement in the woods along the road. Even if they kept running, it didn't guarantee they'd avoid death. These woods were probably just crawling with zombies. They weren't far from Atlanta, which was a pretty big city. The city's population had to have gone somewhere, and that somewhere was probably the woods - to find things to kill and eat, whether those things be fleeing survivors or wild animals.

Behind him, he heard Glenn's shoes hitting the pavement as the boy tried to keep up with him. He could also hear the younger man's heavy breathing and knew he must be exhausted, but they couldn't afford to dick around and get themselves killed. When you're walking along a road surrounded by blood-thirsty monsters, you've got to say goodbye to small comforts such as steady breathing and painless limbs. Personally, he'd rather them be a bit uncomfortable than dead.

He glanced over his shoulder and eyed his companion briefly. Sure enough, the Asian looked completely exhausted. He was even holding onto his right side with his injured hand, as though all of his organs would spill out if he didn't keep his hand in place, holding them in. "Keep up the pace back there," he called out to the kid, trying to give him some sort of encouragement.

Glenn didn't respond, he just kept trying his best to keep up. When he glanced back again, Daryl noticed the younger man's facial features were a bit scrunched up as though he was in pain and his breathing seemed quite labored. Maybe he was hurt more than he'd led on... He had told Daryl it was just his wrist and shoulder... But he certainly seemed to be in a lot of pain.

"You okay back there?" Daryl called back to the boy as he continued his quick pace.

Glenn made some sort of noise between his heavy breaths, but Daryl couldn't really say for sure he knew whether this noise meant 'yes' or 'no.' So he slowed down his pace and turned toward the younger man.

The Asian boy bent forward slightly and breathed in and out in quick, pained gasps. "I'm okay," he managed to squeak between two of these breaths. "If we could just not run so fast..." he suggested.

Daryl sighed. "I know you're tired." He frowned as he actually started feeling bad for the little Chinese kid. He looked like he might actually pass out from exhaustion, "But we gotta get someplace safe, an' fast. If the others kept going and aren't coming back, we're gonna need to find some sort of transportation. The next abandoned car could be miles and miles ahead... And there's probably a lot more hoards of walkers just like the one that attacked the camp. The sooner we find a car, the better."

"I know-" Glenn was still breathing heavily. "And I agree-" He breathed in and out again. "But I just don't know how much longer I can keep up." He gripped his side with his left hand now as he stumbled after Daryl. He even looked like he was limping a bit.

Daryl didn't need to ask him if he was hurt. It was a redundant question. The boy was obviously in pain. Daryl just hoped it wasn't something serious. If his ankle or leg was broken, he wouldn't have been running at all, so that wasn't something to really worry about. His ribs could be damaged seriously though. They could be broken, which could mean internal bleeding. Daryl was no doctor, but he knew enough about the human body to know broken ribs weren't something you could just ignore while sprinting down a highway.

"Gimme that flashlight," Daryl demanded as his pace decreased into nothing and he stood in front of Glenn.

The boy handed it over without question. Daryl flipped the light on and shined it up at Glenn's face. Glenn didn't protest. Instead he just squeezed his eyes shut and continued breathing seemingly painful breaths. His forehead was covered in sweat and some of his hair clung to it. That was no surprise, since they had been running. But Glenn was still gripping his side as though someone had shot him. Daryl suddenly felt dread in the pit of his stomach. When they'd left the camp, everything had been so hectic that Daryl never stopped to think the boy could have been injured. But surely he'd have said something if someone had shot him by accident... He'd told Daryl about his wrist and shoulder, so why wouldn't he say something about a more serious injury? Daryl shook his head, ridding himself of these illogical thoughts. The kid hadn't been shot. He'd probably just landed on something when they'd wrecked the motorcycle.

Daryl shined the light around the two of them, surveying the area to make sure nothing sinister was approaching them and then focused back on Glenn. The boy's eyes were open now and he was staring at Daryl with confusion marking his features.

"Lemme see your side," Daryl demanded, reaching out toward Glenn's shirt.

Glenn took a step back, putting his hands over the bottom of his shirt and pulling it down further than it already was. "What?" he gasped.

"Your side," Daryl repeated more slowly than before. He hated having to repeat himself. "You didn't forget English, did'ya?"

The boy still looked confused. He shook his head. "No... I just..."

"Good, cause I don't know Chinese," Daryl quipped. He knew he was annoying the boy with these racist remarks. That's why he said them. Maybe he was more like his brother than he'd realized. He sighed. "I just wanna make sure you're not killing yourself by runnin' around with broken ribs."

Glenn's eyes widened even more. Daryl's comment must have scared him, because he moved his hands out of the way and allowed Daryl to lift his shirt up to expose his aching side.

Daryl shined the light on the boy's now exposed skin. He had to suppress a wince when he saw Glenn's side. The skin over his ribs was pretty bruised. They had only wrecked less than a half-hour ago, so the bruise was probably only just starting to form and would likely look much worse later. "Here," Daryl said. "Hold your shirt up," he ordered. Daryl was holding both the flashlight and the shirt. He needed to free up one of his hands.

"Do you think anything's broken?" Glenn's voice was small and he was still breathing rapidly. In fact his unnaturally rapidly rising and falling chest was quite distracting to Daryl as he tried to survey the damage.

He poked the boy's ribs with his calloused finger. Honestly, he didn't really know much about broken ribs. He assumed they would just seem to be jutting out at an awkward angle or something, but he was no doctor. Glenn's ribs seemed to all be where they were supposed to be, but what did Daryl know? Not much... Not about this anyway. He'd suffered many broken bones and dislocated joints in his life. They were easier to diagnose when they were within his own body. He didn't often have to look out for anyone other than himself.

"Does it hurt a lot?" Daryl asked, trying to make some sort of educated guess as to how damaged the guy's ribs might be. He looked down at Glenn's face. The boy looked pretty uncertain and frightened. He was also clearly still trying to catch his breath.

Glenn shook his head and shrugged. "Not too much if I hold still. I've never had broken ribs... But I thought they were probably just bruised... They don't feel like they're broken... I mean, I think I'd know if they were, right? Like, they'd feel broken... in pieces, you know? It's not like that, I don't think... Just feels like a sharp pain when I run or bend one way or the other too fast." He looked down at his ribs as well and in-took a sharp breath when he saw the bruises. Or maybe the small movement had been enough to cause him more pain...

"I think you'll be fine," Daryl assured him. He hoped he was right. "We'll move at a slower pace," he offered. "But let's try to not go too slow... It'd be stupid to let ourselves get killed over small comforts. Anything gets up too close to us, an' I'm runnin. An' if that happens, you'd best follow suit."

He glanced over at Glenn who looked incredibly grateful, as if Daryl had just offered to carry him. Daryl narrowed his eyes as he wondered why Glenn looked so happy. It wasn't like the older man had really given him anything. They were making a sacrifice here - going slower so he wouldn't be in much pain, but increasing their chances of being caught and murdered by walking corpses. Glenn probably should have been scared instead of grateful. Daryl clicked the flashlight off, pushed it back at the kid, and started back on his trek along the highway. This time, Glenn walked at a brisk pace beside him instead of struggling to stay even ten feet behind him.

"Maybe the others assume we're dead," Glenn muttered as they walked. He still sounded out of breath, but not as bad as before.

Daryl shrugged. "Maybe. I'd hope they'd have more faith in us than that. Neither of us seems like the type who'd let ourselves get killed."

Glenn laughed. "I don't know... I've almost gotten killed lots of times."

Daryl glanced over at him. He was right. In fact Glenn was about to be killed back at their camp before Daryl had shot the walker who was moving in on him, and would have surely been swarmed and eaten alive if Daryl hadn't been there and offered him a ride at that exact moment. And Daryl had only spotted the Asian kid at the last minute. In fact, the older man had been set to leave right then. He almost hadn't even heard Glenn's frantic voice pleading for Daryl to take him with him. He wouldn't tell Glenn this, but the poor boy had almost been left behind.

The older man hadn't considered that Glenn would be someone who would be forgotten by the rest of the group. He had just assumed someone else would be looking out for for the kid. But now that he actually thought about it, he realized Glenn wasn't really anyone's top priority. Sure, people at camp liked him and cared about him, but he had no family there. Everyone took care of their own first, and Glenn was no one's. Andrea and Amy would take care of each other, and they both seemed pretty close to Dale. Rick and Shane had each other's backs, and they both watched out for Lori and Carl. T-Dog and Jacqui seemed to look out for each other. And Carol would look after for her daughter Sophia... Her husband Ed might even make an effort to keep the two of them alive, even it if was only so he could still have someone to boss around. Even Daryl had had Merle to watch his back up until recently. Glenn was just sort of there - a friend to everyone, but no one's number one.

Everyone at camp had probably assumed he'd gone with someone else. No one was even looking out for him. Daryl hadn't been worried about him either. He had only found him by mistake. Daryl wasn't worried about anyone. He knew they'd all take care of each other and felt responsible for none of them. But maybe he should have been looking out for Glenn, if no one else would.

"You okay, Daryl?" Glenn's voice drew him back to the present.

Daryl stared at him. The kid's eyebrows were knitted together with worry. "I'm fine." Daryl narrowed his eyes. Why did Glenn always look so worried?

"You think anyone of 'em know how to fix your arm?" Daryl wondered. "I mean... Assuming we even meet back up with 'em... Were any of 'em doctors or somethin? I know Shane and Rick were cops. Carol was probably just a house wife 'er something... Andrea was... uh..."

"A lawyer I think," Glenn offered.

Daryl nodded. "Nobody had any god damn jobs that were practical. What good's a lawyer?"

Glenn shrugged. "They're pretty useful when you're in legal trouble," he offered.

"Well, I don't think none of us is gonna be in legal trouble any time soon." Daryl raised his eyebrows.

Glenn shook his head. "Nah... I don't think so either. My wrist is probably going to be messed up forever."

Daryl frowned. "I'll try my hand at fixing it if no one else will," he offered. "How hard can it be? Doctors are some of the dumbest fuckers I've ever met. If they can do it, anyone can."

"I don't know..." Glenn seemed quite hesitant. "It's probably harder than it seems..."

"Guess we'll find out," Daryl smirked as Glenn pulled his wrist protectively away and shielded it with his other hand.

"Listen!" Glenn suddenly whispered. "Sounds like an engine!"

Daryl did as instructed. It did sound like an engine. In fact, it sounded like a pick-up truck. Either someone was coming back for them, or they were about to meet some other survivor(s.) Hopefully it was someone they already knew. Daryl didn't much care for them, but at least he knew they probably wouldn't kill him for his crossbow... or just kill him for fun in this lawless world. Trusting people wasn't ever something he was good at, and that was especially true now that people could do whatever they wanted with no consequences.

Glenn turned on the flashlight and shone it around to draw the attention of whomever was approaching. With the light, they wouldn't be mistaken for reanimated corpses or be looked over entirely.

It wasn't long before Daryl could see headlights coming around a bend up ahead. He tightened his grip on his crossbow, just in case, and stopped walking as he waited for the vehicle to approach. Glenn had stopped walking as well. The two of them stood together and waited.

Daryl could see that Glenn was much more relieved than he was. Glenn saw any sign of life as his savoir. Daryl knew better than that, and thought Glenn should too, especially after those guys back in Atlanta had grabbed him and pulled him into their car as a sort of hostage. Maybe the fact that they had ended up not being as sinister as they'd seemed at first had taught Glenn the reverse of the lesson he should have learned from that experience.

What he should have learned from that was that no one could be trusted. Hell, Daryl didn't even trust the group they'd been living with. And he sure as hell wasn't going to trust anyone new he met.

As the truck pulled up next to them, Daryl was somewhat relieved to recognize the driver. Of course, it was Rick. He was smiling. "Am I relieved to see you guys..." he sighed. "Anyone else with you?" he asked, scanning the area and then looking back toward Glenn and Daryl.

Glenn frowned. "No." He sounded sad. "Who else is missing? I don't think anyone made it out of camp after us... All the cars were gone and everyone at camp was either dead or a geek by the time we got out..."

Rick sighed. "There are quite a few missing still... And several confirmed dead by witnesses."

Daryl rolled his eyes. Rick was speaking as though he was leading a press conference. "You ain't a cop no more," he scoffed. "You don't gotta talk like you are."

"I'm sorry." Rick reached over and opened the truck's door since neither of the other men had bothered to get in yet. "Come on," Rick instructed. "Let's get out of here while we still can."

"Where are we going to go?" Glenn asked as he climbed in first and took a seat in the middle between Rick and Daryl.

Rick shrugged. "I don't know..."

"Should we go back to see if anyone else made it?" Glenn asked, sounding a bit hopeful.

"No one else made it," Daryl assured him.

"How do you know?" Glenn frowned. "What if it was you back there? You'd want someone to come back if they could... We could be their only chance!"

"Glenn," Rick stepped in, reaching over and putting his hand carefully on the boy's shoulder. "I don't think there's any chance that anyone back at camp is still alive. And if they did make it, they probably ran off through the woods or toward the city. If they stayed put, they'd be killed for sure. We can't go out and search the whole woods. There's nothing we can do."

Glenn was clearly upset. He was breathing in and out rapidly again, just like he had when he and Daryl had been running too fast. He looked like he might be having a panic attack. Daryl glanced over at Rick, who was looking at Glenn with a very worried expression on his face.

"Can't we at least drive back in case someone made it to the road?" Glenn wheezed. "What if you'd assumed me and Daryl were dead!? What if you didn't come back for us? You probably didn't think we could have made it, but we did! And you found us! There could be others... Please!"

"Okay," Rick agreed. "You're right Glenn. I'd want someone to come back if it were me. We can do that." He sounded like he was consoling an unhappy child. "We can drive back in that direction and check. That's not unreasonable at all..."

The former sheriff shifted the truck into gear and continued down the road.

"Can you tell me who all made it?" Glenn asked. His interest in all of these people made Daryl feel bad for him. Why did he care about them all so much? He hadn't even known any of them a year ago. And they probably didn't care that much about him, or else they wouldn't have left him behind.

"My family, Shane, Carol and Sophia," Rick started listing names as he looked like he was thinking back, remembering who he'd seen among the living. "T-Dog and Jacqui, Andrea, Dale, Morales and his family... and Jim... but he was bitten... He's still alive for now, but I don't know what we're going to do..." Rick sighed as he finished. "I think that's it..."

Daryl looked over at Glenn. He looked devastated. "There were so many people... That's all that made it? Really? That's it?" Glenn frowned.

Rick shook his head. "I'm sorry, Glenn. There were more walkers than there were people... We were outnumbered. I guess we should count ourselves lucky that any of us made it."

"And now they're all walkers too." Glenn looked down at his swollen wrist and frowned.

The three of them sat in silence for a few minutes as Rick drove slowly down the highway, almost at a snail's pace. Daryl kept his eyes open and scanned the road for survivors. He didn't really care much about what happened to any of the individual people... He wasn't really friends with them, but if someone was out there walking by themselves, hoping for someone to save them, he supposed there was no harm in looking for them.

"You guys walk all this way?" Rick asked, finally breaking the silence.

"We had Merle's motorcycle." Daryl frowned. "But a group of walkers came out of nowhere... I didn't see 'em until it was too late. Lost control of the bike. It's totaled. So we just left it in the road and walked until you showed up."

"You wrecked?" Rick seemed surprised. He glanced over at Daryl and then at Glenn. "Are you guys alright?"

Daryl just stayed silent. He wasn't hurt bad enough to bother telling anyone. All he had wrong with him were minor superficial scrapes and bruises, the kind of injuries his body was covered in probably more often than not. But he looked at Glenn, waiting for the boy to confess to his own injuries.

"My wrist is broken," Glenn sighed.

Daryl could feel the truck slow to a near halt and noticed Rick's eyes had settled on Glenn's wrist. "It looks pretty swollen," he commented. "Can't say I know how to treat a broken wrist." He frowned. "But surely someone will." He clapped Glenn on the shoulder reassuringly. "You'll be alright," he offered a rather forced-looking smile.

They continued driving slowly, all three of them squinting out the windows, hoping to find some sign of other survivors. They eventually reached the place where Daryl had lost control over Merle's motorcycle and where they'd killed the three walkers. Then a little while later they reached the place where they would have turned off if they were going back to camp. But the closer they had gotten to their camp, the more random walkers they'd seen pacing around. Going back to camp would have been way too risky considering there was pretty much zero chance of there being any survivors there.

So Rick turned the truck around and they started back the way they'd come.

Daryl observed his companions. Glenn looked exhausted, like he was struggling to even keep his eyes open. Meanwhile Rick looked incredibly tense. He was pretty sure the former sheriff felt responsible for everyone in their group for some reason, even though he'd only just got there and didn't really know any of them that well. He was still in his sheriff-mindset, and they'd lost over half their group tonight. Rick probably felt like a huge failure right about now.

"How far ahead did you all get before you turned around and came back for us?" Daryl wondered.

"Not too far... But far enough so the people left back there wouldn't be in danger... I didn't want to leave them where walkers could reach them, you know?" Rick explained as his eyes met Daryl's.

"They can prolly take care of themselves, you know," Daryl reminded him. "If a swarm of zombies start walking up to the RV, they can drive off without you fuckin' telling 'em to."

Rick just sighed. It kind of bothered Daryl that Rick had a habit of ignoring him instead of responding to his comments. Daryl didn't say these things so that Rick could brush him off like he was an idiot who just needed to be ignored. He said them because he was right. Rick didn't have to constantly be hanging over everyone. They survived without him for a long time. In fact, more of their group had died since Rick's arrival a few days ago than had in the entire time they'd all spent together prior to the former sheriff showing up.

Daryl glanced over at Glenn. The kid's eyelids were drooping and he was almost falling onto Daryl's shoulder.

"We should all camp out in the cars tonight," Rick started explaining his plan. "And then in the morning we can drive around and find someplace that might be safe to stay for a while. There's got to be a secure abandoned house or something."

"Nothing's secure." Daryl frowned.

"Maybe not." Rick glanced over at him and then down at Glenn who was seemingly asleep. "We can find the closest thing to security that we can." He sounded like he was giving some sort of pep talk. "If nothing's secure, we can make it secure. We'll make something work, and when it stops working, we'll move on. There's a big world out there. Surely we can find a place in it."

Daryl sighed and looked down at Glenn when the boy's head fell gently against Daryl's shoulder. The kid was breathing much more steadily and calmly than he had been at any point prior in the night. Daryl didn't know why he was starting to feel like he cared about this kid. Maybe it was just because of the fact everyone had forgotten him in that brief but extremely important moment back at the camp. Until then, Daryl had felt like he was the odd one out in this group. But he was much more capable of taking care of himself than Glenn was. Daryl didn't need anyone to watch his back. Glenn did, and when he'd needed it most, no one had been there.

There was no doubt everyone in the group loved Glenn... Most of them anyway. With the exception of people who hated everyone, such as Carol's husband, Ed... But it seemed they didn't have to worry about him anymore, as his name wasn't among Rick's list of survivors. And of course Daryl himself couldn't claim to really like anyone in the group... But maybe Glenn wasn't so bad... Daryl wouldn't go so far as to say he liked him though. Everyone else seemed to love Glenn, but that wasn't enough to keep him alive. Out of all the people who treated him as a friend, none of them had bothered to check to make sure the kid wasn't turned into zombie fodder.

Daryl continued staring down at the sleeping young man resting against his arm and shoulder. He supposed surviving in this world depended greatly on who was watching your back. Daryl, luckily, was smart enough to not need anyone else... But a lot of these guys weren't so lucky. They all depended on each other. And since everyone would of course put their own family or boyfriends or girlfriends first on their list of priorities, if you weren't here with your family or partner, you were pretty much fucked in the event of a chaotic disaster like the one that happened tonight. In fact, if Merle had still been with the group, he and Daryl would have made sure to look out for each other first. They would have probably gotten out of there before anyone else. Merle's absence was probably a big reason why Glenn wasn't dead right now.

If anything like this happened again, maybe Daryl would just treat Glenn as his own. Daryl's actual brother was gone, so he had no one to really look out for anymore... He supposed he could give that space to Glenn for now, until they found Merle... Daryl needed someone to look out for, and Glenn needed someone to look out for him. In the end, they were both just providing each other with a service. It didn't mean Daryl really cared about the kid. Making sure Glenn didn't die would just be something to keep himself occupied, something to give a damn about so this world didn't drive him insane.

He looked up to see Rick was smiling at him. Daryl immediately frowned and pushed Glenn gently away so that he was leaning against Rick instead. The last thing he needed was for anyone to think he was growing soft... He had a reputation for hating everyone, especially immigrants. If word got around that he didn't really mind Glenn so much, they'd all assume they were his friends. And he didn't need any of that getting started.

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	4. Chapter 4

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Chapter 4

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When Rick pulled the truck up next to the other parked vehicles, everything was eerily silent. No one ran out to greet him with excitement, like they normally would have when someone left the group and managed to somehow make it back alive, or bothered to see if he'd succeeded in retrieving any more survivors. After everything the group had been through that night, they were probably all too depressed to even care. If anyone really close to them had been killed, they'd probably witnessed it, and therefore probably didn't really give a shit who else Rick might have found and brought back with him. When your sister, or husband, or best friend gets torn apart in front of you, nothing else really matters.

As Rick parked the truck, Glenn awoke with a small gasp and looked around himself. His face showed a hint of confusion, like he had forgotten where he was. He sat up straight and peered out the windshield. "Is everyone else asleep, do you think?" he whispered.

Daryl fought the urge to roll his eyes. "I doubt people are gonna get much sleep tonight... Sleeping in cramped cars and that old RV, right after half our group got butchered... Sleep probably ain't gonna come easy."

Rick shot him an irritated look. "Everyone's exhausted, Daryl. Don't judge them if they want to sleep. Staying up all night won't change anything."

"Easy for you to say. I noticed yer whole family's still alive an' well." Daryl glared at him. He was really getting tired of Rick's positivity. The man acted like they were all struggling and getting through this disaster together, but really, he hadn't lost much at all. His wife and kid were alive... Hell, even his best friend was here. And he couldn't have even claimed to be friends with anyone else in the group. He had only just arrived at camp. How deep of a relationship could he have formed with these people within the span of two days? He hadn't lost anyone he loved. What did he have to complain about?

Rick just shook his head as though he was disappointed in Daryl and got out of the truck, closing the door as quietly as he could. He looked back in through the still-rolled-down window. "'Night Glenn." He nodded. "Our car's right over there, if you need anything for whatever reason. You see any walkers, wake me up... Dale's on lookout, and Shane's taking the second shift... So you shouldn't need to worry. They both know what they're doing."

"Got it," Daryl interrupted him. He was ready for Rick to get the hell out of here and back to his perfect, still living family, who still had all their limbs.

Rick glanced at him for a moment but quickly focused back on Glenn. "If you want I could ask around for you and see if anyone knows how to treat your wrist," he offered. "I'm sure some people are still awake... And surely someone will have some sort of medical knowledge..."

Glenn hesitated. "I don't know... I mean... I wouldn't want to bother anyone... A broken wrist is nothing compared to all that happened tonight... People's family members were killed... Maybe you should just let them sleep, or mourn... or whatever they feel like doing. They've all been through a lot."

"So have you." Rick frowned. "I know Amy was your friend..."

All Daryl could do during this exchange was just watch the two men. The act of mourning someone's death was somewhat foreign to him. Sure, he'd had family members and school-mates die in his life, but he never really cared about them enough to shed any tears. The closest he'd come to mourning was when he heard his brother had been left in Atlanta. Merle might still be alive, but being alive and missing in this world was almost the equivalent of being dead... How much of a chance did a man with one hand have traveling all alone in a world infested with cannibal corpses?

By now Rick had his arms back in the truck and was embracing Glenn through the window. Neither of them was even speaking; they just hugged each other in silence, like a married couple or like sisters would. This whole friendship thing was bizarre... The two of them weren't even related... And they'd only just met each other... How were they already comfortable enough to just hug each other like that? It took years of knowing a person, sometimes even decades, before Daryl gave a shit about anyone... How had these two bonded so strongly so quickly? Daryl never hugged anyone... Even when he knew them his whole life. Merle never hugged him, and Daryl didn't ever try to get him to. He thought men didn't do that.

"No matter how long we survive in this world, losing someone is never going to get any easier," Rick mumbled, still squeezing Glenn in a secure embrace. "And don't think just because Amy wasn't related to you that you can't mourn for her. Your grief is just as important as Andrea's. Amy was an important person to a lot of people, and each of those people deserve to grieve for her as much as they need to." He paused for a moment, and then got back to business. "I'll look around and see if anyone's still awake... Surely someone around here will be able to help you. I wouldn't want you leaving this alone if it's something that needs attention. We're bad enough off as it is. No need to ignore problems that have solutions."

"Thanks, Rick," Glenn said as the men pulled away from each other. "And thanks for coming back for us."

"No problem." Rick smiled. "I know you'd have done the same for me."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Daryl and the Asian kid alone again. Glenn immediately reached down and rolled up the truck's window. After having witnessed up close what was out wandering in the woods, the boy probably didn't want to risk having any opening leading from the outside into the truck.

Daryl reached up and turned on the overhead light. "Lemme see your wrist again," he demanded. He hadn't really gotten a good chance to see it before, and he doubted anyone in their group would know how to fix it anyway. There were barely even any people left, and half of them were house-wives and kids. The other half had wasted their lives focusing on stupid jobs, like lawyers and cops... The whole lot of them were completely useless out in the real world - the world where you needed to survive in the wild instead of in the comfort of a police-patrolled city where you needed to know how to type better than you needed to know how to catch food or stay warm at night. At least Daryl had some experience in mending his own injuries. That was probably more knowledge than any of these other idiots had.

Glenn hesitantly offered his wrist over to the older man. Daryl took the younger man's arm in his hands, trying to be as gentle as possible as he turned it over. The boy's entire wrist was quite swollen and a rather dark bruise covered it. Daryl also noticed Glenn's skin felt warmer than it should. "You not feeling sick besides for this, are ya?" Daryl asked, reaching up and placing his hand on Glenn's forehead to check for a fever.

The kid flinched back very slightly away from Daryl's touch, but gave in pretty quickly and let the older man continue with his half-assed medical examination. Glenn's forehead didn't feel warm like his wrist did though. Daryl wished he knew what he was doing. If it was his own wrist, he'd probably just avoid using it for a while and wait for it to heal itself. But it was harder to judge what to do considering he couldn't feel the pain Glenn was feeling. Was it intense enough to worry? He couldn't really say, since Glenn's tolerance for pain probably wasn't as high as Daryl's. "Can you move it?" he asked.

"Um..." Glenn moved his hand slightly, "Yeah... A little..." He winced. "But it hurts to move it."

Daryl squinted at the kid's wrist again. He hoped it wasn't something that would have ordinarily required surgery, because that sure as hell wasn't going to be happening any time soon, and he'd hate for the poor guy's hand to be fucked up permanently.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard someone knocking against the truck's window. "Jesus Christ!" he yelled as he looked up to see the source of the noise. It was Carol, and she looked quite apprehensive, probably because of Daryl's outburst.

Glenn reached over and rolled the window back down. "Hey Carol," he greeted her. "I'm Sorry to hear about Ed," he said immediately in a small voice.

Carol just shrugged and shook her head. "It's actually kind of a relief," she said simply laughing nervously and then quickly changing the subject. "Rick said you hurt your wrist?"

Daryl just stared at her with narrowed eyes. How the fuck would she know anything? All she probably knew how to do was laundry. But he kept his mouth shut. Maybe the woman had once wanted to be something other than an abused housewife. Maybe she'd gone to medical school for a while or something. Daryl certainly wouldn't have known, as he didn't give a shit about these people and had never bothered asking to hear their life stories.

Glenn nodded. "Yeah... You know anything about broken bones?" he wondered.

"Maybe..." She didn't sound entirely confident, but Glenn's choices for medical care were rather limited. "I've had my fair share of injuries." She forced a laugh. "And I've treated some of Sophia's... accidents... Sometimes we couldn't get to a hospital... I uh... I mean... well... Could I just see your wrist?" She was beginning to sound quite nervous as she reached out for Glenn's injured arm.

Glenn moved his hand over so that she could take it in hers. She bent his wrist slowly and carefully back and forth. "Tell me if it hurts," she instructed, avoiding eye contact with both Glenn and Daryl, and instead keeping her focus on the boy's arm.

As she moved it, Glenn winced slightly.

"Sorry." She frowned. "How bad did it hurt? On a scale of one to ten, with ten being the worst..."

Glenn shrugged. "Maybe six?"

Carol nodded. "Well, I'm no doctor, but it looks more like a sprain than a break to me... Now... that's just my own best guess... I can tell you how I'd treat it, but I can't guarantee it'll work... Let me go get you something to wrap it up with. All I can say is that you should keep it wrapped up - I think that'll keep it from swellin' up too much... And try to keep it elevated if you can. If it's not a bad sprain or a break, it should heal on its own if you just don't use that arm for a while. Guess we'll just have to wait and see how it works out and hope for the best."

Glenn looked over at Daryl as Carol walked off toward the RV. "Who'd have thought she'd know anything?" Daryl scoffed.

Glenn shrugged. "I think her husband was abusive," Glenn whispered as if it were some sort of secret.

"Oh, really?" Daryl rolled his eyes. "Ya think?"

Glenn frowned. "Well, it's not surprising that she might have taught herself a thing or two about home treatments for injuries... considering... well, you know..."

The older man just shook his head. "Well, any idiot knows wrapping an injury stops the swelling... You don't have to be a doctor ta know that."

"I never heard you suggest it." Glenn scowled at him.

Daryl laughed. He sure was being defensive. "I was gettin' around to it," he assured the kid.

Carol had returned by now. She was carrying some gauze, a bottle of aspirin, and a canteen of water. "Take two of these." She offered him the pills and then the water. She then proceeded to take his wrist and wrap it up in the gauze. Her hands moved very gently and with much grace. She'd probably done this a lot. "Just try to keep it elevated, Glenn... okay?" She was frowning and looked like she was on the verge of tears. "You saved me and my daughter tonight Glenn," she said in a small, shaky voice. "You know that, right? If you weren't there, we'd be dead."

Glenn appeared to be speechless.

"I just wanted to say thank you... And I'm really glad you're okay. I thought you hadn't made it." She paused and looked down at the ground. "When Rick came by and told me he'd found you guys... I just... I knew it was a miracle. It might not always seem like God's still lookin' out for us, but I think he just might be."

"I couldn't have just let that walker get you guys..." Glenn sounded so awkward. He clearly didn't know the right words to say. "I mean... You're welcome... I uh..."

"Wasn't no miracle," Daryl interrupted Glenn's confused babbling and scowled at Carol. "Glenn and I didn't survive because God likes us. We survived because we ain't stupid and we can take care of ourselves. An' Rick didn't save us neither. We were doin' fine without 'im."

Carol frowned. She looked up at Daryl. "You shouldn't say things like that. God's watching over you, whether you think you need him or not." For a moment she stared at him with her head held high, but with fear evident in her eyes. She probably expected Daryl to smack her like her husband would have if she'd stood up to him. But Daryl didn't. He just stared her down until she looked away. "Well... Thanks anyway, Glenn... I gotta get back to Sophia. You boys sleep tight."

"Good night," Glenn called after her as she almost ran back to the RV. "And thanks for your help."

Daryl watched as the boy rolled up the truck's window and then turned back to face him. "You don't have to be so mean," he frowned. "I don't really know if I believe in God either... But you don't have to be mean about it... It probably makes her feel better about all this. What harm does it do if she wants to think someone or something higher than us has some sort of plan and is watching over us?"

Daryl just rolled his eyes and ignored him. If Carol came by spouting any religious bullshit to him, he was going to tell her to shut the hell up, no matter how comforting she thought it was. It wasn't comforting to Daryl, and he didn't want to hear about it.

"Are we both staying here tonight then? In the truck I mean?" Glenn looked and sounded nervous as he changed the subject of conversation.

"I guess so." Daryl shrugged. "I sure as hell ain't sleeping in a tent tonight. And I ain't gonna try to make a place for myself in the RV. Every other place is already taken. At least it's just me and you in here instead of a bunch of scared, crying women and kids."

Glenn frowned. "They have a right to be scared."

"Maybe," Daryl agreed. "But it ain't my problem to deal with it."

Glenn signed and leaned back halfway against the seat and halfway against the truck's driver's side door. "It wouldn't kill you to be a little more sensitive. Some of those people just lost family members, or people they considered family."

"I didn't say nothin' to 'em," Daryl scoffed. "You're acting like I told each one of 'em to fuck off and man up. I didn't say one word. If I went in there and gave 'em all a hug and a pat on the head, they'd be even more scared than they already are."

Glenn narrowed his eyes at Daryl and just stared at him for a moment. Daryl stared back. He had been serious. He had no ties to these people. If he got all mushy and sensitive now, it would just be fake. None of them expected sympathy from him, and he wasn't gonna give it.

After a few seconds, Daryl noticed Glenn's confused scowl had turned into a smile. "You're right. That would be scary. They'd probably assume you were about to kill them."

"Go ta sleep," Daryl muttered as he turned away from Glenn and stared out the window.

As the older man stared out the window at the stars above them, he heard Glenn shifting around to his left. He had certainly had no trouble falling asleep while they were driving here, but for some reason he was much more antsy now. Daryl just ignored him. He doubted he himself would get much sleep regardless of whether or not Glenn held still.

Daryl had too much to think about. He didn't like being out here in the open. Cars weren't 100% zombie-proof. If a hoard of walkers passed through here, they could easily break through windows. Their camp was incredibly disorganized right now... Even more so than it had been by the quarry. He hated traveling with all these people. Even though he didn't really like them, he still felt a very slight need to make sure they didn't die. It was like having a bunch of kids hanging around you out in the woods. Even if they aren't your kids, you don't exactly want them to run off and get themselves killed if there's something you could do to prevent it. He knew he was smarter than these people... Maybe not by their definition of intelligence, but in terms of knowing how to survive, he knew more than any of them. Naturally, being the smartest in a group made you a little responsible over everyone else. He needed to make sure none of these people did anything stupid, and there were so many of them... and they were all so stupid...

And on top of having to worry about watching all these idiots get killed, now he had to worry about no longer having his own vehicle. Merle's motorcycle had been his way out of here. If he had decided to leave at any point, he knew he'd have Merle's bike. But not anymore. Now he'd have to steal one of the other cars, which he didn't much mind, really... but he'd much rather have his own mode of transportation. The last thing these morons needed was for another of their vehicles to disappear. They needed every advantage they could get if they were going to survive out here.

Things were completely silent in the truck, but neither of the men were asleep. Daryl could still feel the seat moving very slightly as Glenn continued squirming. The older man glanced over at his companion. The boy had drawn his legs up onto the seat and was staring out the other window so that Daryl couldn't see his face. He had his arms wrapped around himself as though he was cold. It didn't seem too cold to Daryl, but he was probably more used to being out in the elements than Glenn was. Maybe he had just gotten used to being cold. As Daryl stared at the kid, he noticed Glenn's body was shaking very slightly.

"You cold?" Daryl broke the silence. Someone around here probably had an extra blanket, or at least a jacket he could wear...

Glenn sniffed and shook his head. "No," he said in a small voice as he continued staring out the window. He drew his arms and legs in even closer, making himself as small as possible. When he positioned himself like that, it really made Daryl realize how small he was. Glenn wasn't too much shorter than Daryl, but he didn't have all the muscle mass Daryl did. The boy looked so much like a child right now. Daryl wondered how old he actually was. Probably not over twenty. His shoulders were still trembling slightly.

Daryl frowned. Glenn wasn't shivering. His shoulders and back weren't shaking because of the cold. He was crying. And what was Daryl supposed to do about that? At least he wasn't full on sobbing... Maybe Daryl could just pretend he didn't notice... Maybe that's what Glenn wanted. He was looking away from the older man - probably trying to keep him from seeing that he was upset. He was looking toward the RV... He was probably thinking about Amy again.

As much as Daryl wanted to say or do something to comfort the kid, he couldn't really think of what that would be. Nothing he said would change anything, and like Glenn had said earlier, if Daryl coddled him like he was a little child, it would probably scare him more than anything. Daryl wasn't the sort of guy who typically offered any sort of comfort to anyone - not even to people he sort of liked.

So instead, he looked back out his own window and hoped Glenn would stop thinking about whatever it was that was causing him to cry. Dealing with crying people wasn't something Daryl was cut out for.

The space in the truck remained mostly silent for the next few minutes, with the exception of a soft sniffle here and there and the even softer sounds of the two men breathing. Daryl considered for a moment bringing up another subject to take Glenn's mind off Amy, or whoever/whatever he was thinking about, but he didn't want to be up all night talking... And he knew the boy wouldn't be able to keep his mind off his dead friend forever. He had to get all this sadness out of his system at some point. So Daryl stayed quiet and continued gazing up at the stars.

He was trying to appear indifferent, but couldn't help but steal a glance over at his companion when the younger man laid down on the seat next to him. He laid on his back with his wrapped wrist on top of his chest and with his legs curled up against the driver's side door of the truck. He had squeezed his eyes shut and was frowning very slightly. Daryl could see tiny traces of tears on the boy's cheeks, but he didn't seem to be crying anymore.

Daryl raised his eyebrow, but quickly averted his eyes and focused back on the outside world. It looked like most of the people in their group were asleep by now. Everything was dark, except for a dim light radiating from the RV. It was probably coming from a candle, and Daryl guessed it had probably been Andrea who lit it. Her younger sister had just been killed right in front of her. No matter how tired she was, and no matter how much Rick thought everyone needed to sleep, Daryl could almost guarantee Andrea wasn't in there sleeping. She probably was contemplating suicide by this point. Giving up in this world would be easy for anyone, and would be especially easy for her now that she'd lost basically everything. The fact that Daryl knew his brother was still out there somewhere helped keep him from giving up entirely. That's probably what kept most of these people going - their family members who might still be alive... And maybe that's why they were making friends with each other - more reasons to keep living.

He glanced back over at Glenn who was breathing evenly as though he was asleep. He supposed there would be no harm in him using Glenn as a reason to keep himself going. It didn't mean he cared about the kid... It just would keep him busy - like a game. If Glenn lived, the game was still going. If Glenn died, the game was over. It could keep him occupied until he found Merle.

Glenn made a small wincing sound and moved his hand up as though he was swatting away some invisible monster. He must have been having a bad dream. He ended up with his injured arm hanging down on the floorboards of the truck.

Daryl stared at him. What kept Glenn going? Why hadn't the boy given up yet? Maybe it was his youth. After all, young people often felt invincible. Glenn probably didn't feel as ready to die as many other people, just because he hadn't lived as long as they had yet. He hadn't experienced the world, and even if the world was different now, he still hadn't seen much of it. Or maybe the possibility of someone he knew and loved before all of this still being alive out there somewhere kept him going. Or perhaps it was the new friends he'd met here... like Amy... Daryl frowned. Amy had been a nice girl. She'd never done anything to piss off Daryl, really. She annoyed him as much as anyone else, but she didn't argue with him or make sarcastic or snarky comments when she disagreed with him. He didn't really mind her so much... He could see why Glenn would have made friends with her. They both seemed like nice, caring people.

He took note of the boy's arm again, hanging down lower than the rest of his body. Now he remembered what Carol had said about keeping it elevated. Carefully, he reached down and grabbed Glenn's arm, pulling it back up and placing it lightly on the boy's chest where he had positioned it himself earlier.

Maybe Glenn would be sad for a while, just like anyone would be if their friend died, but he was pretty sure the kid would be alright. Glenn was strong, and everyone in camp liked him. He had other people besides Amy to keep him going. Dale seemed quite fond of him, and Glenn seemed to look up to Dale was well. And of course Rick felt like he owed some debt to Glenn since the Asian kid saved him in Atlanta... And Daryl kind of wanted to watch out for him now... He had lots of people to make sure he was alright. And when Dale was too busy watching out for Andrea and Rick was too busy with his family and Shane, Daryl would be the one to be there for Glenn.

And Daryl knew he himself would be okay too. Merle was out there somewhere, and maybe they'd never meet back up... But until Daryl saw his brother's dead body, he wasn't going to give up on trying to make it in this world, and even if he did find out Merle was gone for good, maybe there were other people out there who could give him a reason to keep going...

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End file.
